


Weird is a dirty word

by WritingStag



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/F, Fluff, and other stuff, i keep hurting Holtz, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingStag/pseuds/WritingStag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 6 times Holtz cries and the one time she doesn't. (Holtz character study)  Holtzbert if you squint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weird is a dirty word

When Holtzmann was 5 the words she heard most often were “you’re weird.” She never let it bother her. So what if she was weird? She had more fun than all the other kids in her class even though none of them would play with her. Not that she cared. It was more fun playing in the sandbox alone since she didn’t have to share the buckets or shovels. The sandbox was always her favorite, the sand molded into whatever she wanted and with a little imagination she could make anything. It was one such day on an early September afternoon. The air was crisp and it had rained the night before. The sand was just damp enough to be the perfect consistency for forming it by hand. The recess bell rang and like every other kid Holtzmann was excited to go out and play and create. Settling in the sand it took barely 2 minutes for an idea for, her hands already building and sculpting. 

Kids didn’t come near her or talk to her much so when the sandbox suddenly became shrouded in shadows she didn’t process the three taller boys until she looked up, squinting to see their faces through the blinding halo the sun gave them. “What are you doing Weirdo?” One of them asked. Holtz had never been asked what she was doing before. The opportunity to explain the wonderful ideas in her head excited her. “I’m building a time machine!” she replied excitedly. “Right here is where the hyper drive will go!” she said pointing excitedly at a particularly lumpy and half shaped mound of sand. “And over there-“a foot kicking her creation into unrecognizable blobs derailed her thought. The three boys continued to kick her creation, sand kicking up and spraying all over her face, getting in her eyes and in all the cracks of her clothes and hair. 

“You’re so stupid and weird. Everybody knows time travel isn’t possible. Go back to your barbies you dumb girl.” They threw some more insults at her before calling her weird once more, walking away and high fiving. The sand was gritty in her eyes and Holtz couldn’t help the tears that leaked out. She told herself it was because of the sand in her eyes and not the words but deep down, she knew she was only lying to herself.

When she came home that afternoon, sand still in her hair and in her clothes her mother swept her up in a hug and smoothed he messy hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay Jillian, I’m sure the time machine would have worked. How about we work on it after dinner?” The suggestion cheered her up. A quick bubble bath spent making bubble beards with her mom destroyed any remnants of the days bad mood and true to her word, after dinner the two spent no less than an hour working on the time machines blueprints.

~

Holtz was 12 and more than eager to impress everyone at the school science fair. She was in the 6th grade now and had never once stopped inventing, thinking planning and drawing blueprints, tinkering, pulling things apart and (sometimes) putting them back together. Her Mother said she was a genius and her teachers called her a handful. But none of that stopped her. Her entry was sure to win first prize this year. Her idea was brilliant and more importantly, the machine worked. Spending all day buzzing around the schools science fair was exactly her idea of heaven. 

When 2 o’clock rolled around and it was her columns turn to be judge the blonde could barely restrain herself. As it was already hard to keep her ticks under control. She had just started her ADHD medication but Holtz avoided taking it as often as possible. It made the world too slow and it became even harder to focus than usual. Her hands taps an erratic rhythm on the table, drumming to her own drumbeat. The judge came closer and closer, and as he did so Jillian’s excitement only grew, the excited table drumming becoming almost frantic.

Finally when the judge was in front of her table, the smile couldn’t stay off her face. A quick glance at the machinery and poster board behind explaining the machine and its functions were all the judge gave her before scribbling on his note pad and walking away. “What a weird kid.” He whispered as he swiftly moved on. Between the insult and not even having a chance to speak, Holtz was crushed. The rest of the day was spent faking her energy and enthusiasm until finally 6 o’clock rolled around, the winners was given their prizes and let go. Her mom came, a bright smile on her face that quickly fell when she saw her daughters face. That night her mom presented her with a small trophy. It was cheaply made but had her name inscribed on it and underneath the words ‘Best young scientist.’ Clutching the trophy tightly and throwing her arms around her mothers neck Holtz couldn’t stop a few tears from leaking out of her eyes.  
“Thanks mom.”

“Never forget Jillian, you are brilliant and you’ll change the world someday. Don’t let the world drag you down or snuff out that wonderful light of yours.” 

That night she fell asleep with a crooked smile on her face and the trophy on her nightstand so it would be the first thing she saw in the morning. Who needed a stupid award from some stupid school anyways? This one was so much better.

~

She was 15 and bored out of her mind in English class. Who cared about lord of the flies anyways? And why was the book called that when there were no flies? It just didn’t make sense. All her classmates complained that math was hard which Holtz never understood. Math was easy, it was this class that was the hardest. As it was she was barely staying awake and barely scrapping by in this class.

“Jillian, go to the principal’s office.”

“Holtzmann.” She corrected automatically. Only her father called her that when he was more than a little drunk and taking out his anger and failures out on her. The teacher sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Just go.” There was no point in arguing. Her mom was going to be upset. This was the third time this week and it was only Thursday. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t done anything wrong. ‘I was only bored in class, like that’s a crime.’ She thought irritably, packing up her things as her classmates jeered saying things like “what’d you do now weirdo?” and “ooohhh the freak is in troooouble!” She began trudging down the two flights of stair and through the hall to the principal’s office humming the whole way. When she arrived the secretary waved her in, the principal looked unusually grave. A fact She only realized in retrospect (hindsight is 20/20 her mother once said after a small explosion had the school evacuated and Holtz suspended for a week.)  
“Have a seat Ms. Holtzmann.” She did, dropping her bag and dropping unceremoniously into the old armchair.

“What is it you think I did this time?” She asked defeated. Whatever it was there was probably no getting out of it, even if she hadn’t actually done it.

“Ms. Holtzmann, I’m afraid there’s been an accident….”

She didn’t cry at the funeral, her dad standing stoically at her side, not so discreetly drinking from a hip flask, eyes unfocused and bleary. It didn’t feel real. Nothing had since the principal had told her that her mother had died in a car crash. Colors were dulled and sounds were muted. After the funeral when she’d had to practically carry her father up the stairs to their apartment, leaving him passed out on the couch she retreated to her room. She sat on her bed and stared blankly at the walls. Hey eye caught the gold of the trophy her mother had given her only three years ago. Standing robotically she moved to pick it up off its shelf. Turning it around in her hands her eyes began to burn and before she knew it she was curled up in bed, sobbing loudly and muffling agonized screams into her pillow. 

It was the hardest she’d ever cried and once she’d calmed down a couple hours later Holtzmann vowed she would be strong and to create something beautiful, something wonderful that her mother would have been proud of.

~

Holtzmann was only 19 when she graduated from M.I.T. She’d never stopped inventing, never stopped being weird and eccentric. Never stopped believing in herself and now she was a graduate from the most prestigious engineering school when most kids her age had barely started community college. But what now? Sitting in her childhood bedroom, glancing at all the photos and keepsakes that littered the room among all the pieces and parts, half made machines and some even working, humming and occasionally crackling. Looking at the small plastic trophy she sat and thought, now what?

There was nothing left for her here. Her father was a shell of who he once was and this small dingy apartment was filled with too many memories. Some good, some bittersweet but most bad. So she packed a duffle bag full of her favourite clothes. A framed photo of her mother and that small plastic trophy. Climbing down the fire escape and walking away from that small complex was freeing in a way. It felt like she was walking away from all the hurt of the past and walking towards a bright new future.  
Unfortunately life is no movie where a happy ending is guaranteed. 

No bright future appeared. Instead she wandered the street for days, finding things to tinker with in the trash and living out of dumpsters. Convenience stores and grocery stores really did throw a lot of good things away. She was always getting weird looks and no matter how hard she tried she could not ignore the whispers. It was the same as always. Most people criticized and very few were sympathetic.

Until one day while digging through the trash she met a man by the name of Chad. He was nice and didn’t call Holtzmann weird even once. They met up behind the dumpster a couple times a week and she would talk. About science and engineering and about what she wanted to create. Slowly they became friends.

One day while they were scavenging through a dumpster behind the grocery store Chad stopped and turned to look at her before he blurted “I want to take you on a date.” She blinked, once twice, shook her head then blinked once more.

“What?”

“I want to take you on a date. A real one. Ive been scavenging in the dumpsters for stuff I can sell and I’ve made enough for dinner. I mean, by dinner I mean 7-11 hotdogs in fresh bun and a can of coke each.” He gave her a toothy grin. It was the first time Holtz had ever been asked out. She had no idea how to respond. The more she thought about it the less she wanted to date Chad. Men had never really appealed to her (no one really had. She’d never had any friends much less a significant other.) 

“No thanks.” She eventually settled on. “I don’t want... I just think of you as a friend.” She smiled in hopes of smoothing over the rejection. Her smile faltered as Chad stepped into her personal space, forcing her to step back. He stepped forward again and this process repeated until Holtz was pressed up against the wall with nowhere to go. 

“What do you mean no?” Not having a good repose she just shrugged.

“I mean no, I’m not interested.” She didn’t like having him in her personal space but that didn’t mean she was going to change her answer or attitude.  
Chad pressed even closer, his breath brushing over the blonde’s cheeks and making her turn her head to avoid his garbage breathe. (Not that she could blame him, she had the same garbage breathe.) 

“Go. Out. With. Me.” Chad grit out once more, to which Holtz told him no once more. Finally he backed off but not before slapping his palm against the brick next to her head, making her flinch instinctively. 

“Fine whatever. I didn’t wanna fuck you that bad anyways. It’s not like I was in love with you. You’re too weird for anyone to love.” She waited until he’d stormed away before hunching forward, hands on her knee’s as she began to cry. His words hurt deeper than any others in her life so far. Once her sobs had subsided and she had herself under control she straightened and wiped her eyes with the dirty camo jacket she’d found at the thrift store. She took a deep breath to gather herself before swaggering out of the alley, pretending everything was okay.

~

Holtzmann is 21 and has been living on the street for 2 years now. She got used to sleeping in the parks and on fire escapes. She knows it’s not the life her mother would have wanted for her. She visits her grave at least four times per year. Christmas, Her birthday, her mother’s birthday and on the Anniversary that it happened. She sits with her back to the cold granite stone and talks. Tells her about her life, projects she dreams about doing one day. She tells her mother everything. Even in death, her mother is the only friend she’s ever really had.

One day while scavenging for food a woman ambles by and disappears for a moment before back tracking, staring at her.

“Aren’t you Jillian Holtzmann?” She asks, startling her.

“The one and only. How did you know that?”

“I remember seeing your face on some blogs. I mean what self-respecting scientist hasn’t heard of Jillian Holtzmann, the 19 year old M.I.T graduate?” Her words make the blonde blush. “So why are you out here?” she asks.

“Looking for food.” She blurts without thinking. Several emotions flit across the woman’s face before settling on pity.

“Let me buy you lunch.” She says.

“I don’t even know your name.” 

She sticks her hand out and grins. “Abby. Abby Yates.”

Abby takes her to a waffle house and lets her order whatever she wants. Holtz asks no less than four times if she’s sure before Abby exasperatedly and teasingly threatens that if she doesn’t order soon, she’ll pick for her. She ends up ordering five different things because she couldn’t make up her mind. The waitress gives her a weird look but writes it all down.

While they wait for their food, Abby and her talk. They talk about science and the paranormal and physics. By the end of dinner Abby’s offered to let Holtz come work with her. She says the work is too much for one person anyways and that the lab is warm and locks from the inside and outside. She quietly mentions there’s even a cot in there somewhere that needs using. Holtzmann gets the hint. This woman she just met on the street who she probably shouldn’t trust but does, who bought her a 40 dollar meal and offered her a home and a place to work, a place to be herself and appreciated. She doesn’t have to think too long or hard. She takes the offer with a quirky grin and Abby grins wide and cheers, making the other people give them strange looks but Holtzmann doesn’t care. For the first time in her life, she has a friend.

~

Holtz is 24 and has been working with Abby for three years now and they’ve easily been the happiest years of her life. Abby understands her, and even when she doesn’t she still pays attention to what Holtz is saying and nods, asking questions. It feels good. She eats more regularly now though she still overworks herself, forgetting to eat and sleep. For the first time in Years Holtzmann feels at home.

One night after having what they think is a break through Abby suggests they go to the bar to celebrate. Holtzmann had never been but the concept sounds fun so she agrees. Abby is sure to pick a bar with a dancefloor specifically for Holtzmann and as soon as they get there Holtz is dancing and having a good time. Abby simply smiles and orders a drink and watches the blonde.

Later into the night Abby comes back from the bathroom and can’t find Holtz which is strange because the woman really does stick out. She peeks around a few corners and finds her pinned to the wall where some man is kissing her and Holtz very clearly doesn’t want to be kissed. She’s shoving at him and he’s got one hand grabbing her chest and the other is creeping between her legs. Abby doesn’t think, just yanks him back by his sandy blonde hair and decks him in the face. He stumbles back and she puts herself between the two of them. She can feels holtz’s small hands on her shoulders, shaking badly and Abby swears she hears a whimper. The man regains his feet and Abby stares him down, glaring hard.

“Walk away.” She says lowly, eyes hard. He takes a step forward and Abby can fell Holtz jerk back, her grip tightening.

“What if I don’t want to walk away?” He replies low and rough. Abby has dealt with jerks before and doesn’t even hesitate in stepping forward and slapping him across the face. 

“I SAID BACK OFF!” She shouts drawing the attention of a few other patrons. The attention of others seems to deter him because he sneered then backed off but not before first spitting a few choice words and Abby swears she here the words weirdos and freaks. Turning around she could see Holtzmanns red rimmed eyes, even behind the yellow glasses and her tear stained cheeks. Taking her gently by the arm she guides her out of the bar and onto the street. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Once their back in the lab Abby wraps Holtz in the biggest hug she can and she clings right back. Once she’s calmed down Holtz talks about Chad and rejecting him 5 years prior. Just hearing that this isn’t the first time makes Abby’s blood boil. She paces up and down the lab swearing and concocting plans that are increasingly complex. Eventually Abby settled on ordering a large pizza and all of Holtz favourite food from the Chinese place they always ordered from and buying them both the biggest possible slurpees. The curled up on the couch they’d saved from the trash and watched movies on the laptop. It wasn’t a cure but it sure helped and by the end of the night Holtz was asleep with her head in Abby’s lap, muttering in her sleep. Abby shook her head sadly and wondered just what had the woman sleeping in her lap had been put through.

~

Holtz is 25 when Erin wanders into their lab. She’d never met this woman but knew her from Abby talking about her. Four years was a long time to more or less live with someone and so she’d heard plenty about her. She didn’t look at all what Holtz had imagined. Not that she’d spent excessive amounts of time imagining what this woman would look like. Holtz couldn’t put her finger on it but something about her made her stomach flutter. Maybe it was her hair or the way she didn’t back down to Abby. Whatever it was it didn’t stop them from going to the Mansion Erin mentions and seeing their first real live ghost.

They don’t stop planning the whole way back to the lab and after that it’s all a world wind and then their settled atop a Chinese restaurant and starting up their own ghostbusting business. Erin doesn’t seem to mind her quirks either and it’s that she doesn’t chastise her for dancing (She only points out the fire she started and it needed putting out anyways.) It’s strange but Holtz is starting to feel like she’s found her family.

It’s a couple of weeks and it’s just Holtz and Erin in the firehouse. Patty went to go find a special book (Booooriiing) and Abby went for food. The firehouse was too quiet so without warning she clicked the stereo on and began to dance. Erin looks up from her work and catches Holtz’s eye and it seals her fate, dancing over to the physicist she takes her hands and begins to dance with her. Erin is stiff at first but soon she loosens up. She’s still not a great dancer but what she lacks in skill she makes up for with enthusiasm. 

Holtz twirls her and she laughs. The song ends and Erin laughs a little breathlessly. “You know Holtz, you’re so weird.” Holtz can’t help the sting in her chest the words cause. Erin shakes her head but she’s still smiling. “You’re weird and I it’s why I love you.” Erin hugs her suddenly before spinning and heading back to her whiteboard and her calculations. “Never change Holtzmann! Never change!” 

Holtz can’t move for a few moments before a huge grin spreads across her face and she begin to dance again, in victory this time. Because she’s finally found a family, three other people who love and accept her no matter what, who even love her because of her quirks and weirdness instead of despite them. The word weird no longer feels dirty or like an insult. Weird is okay and Holz is finally at peace.

Holtz is 25 when she finally finds peace with herself. Holtz is 25 and as she lay in bed that night she grinned and whispered to no one in particular. “I’m so weird.”


End file.
